


Smells Like Teen Spirit

by limenitis_arthemis



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Chapter 2 is just notes, Crucify (Single) B-sides - Tori Amos, D/s and S&M undercurrents- not fully negotiated, F/M, Little Earthquakes (Album) - Tori Amos, M/M, Multi, Underage Sex, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 02:33:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limenitis_arthemis/pseuds/limenitis_arthemis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles is bitten in the woods he finds himself caught in an imbroglio beyond his wildest imagination. Sure there's pain and death and he still has Harris for chemistry, but he's super strong and having frequent sex, so overall, he's not complaining.<br/>In which Derek gets what he wants, Jackson gets what he needs, and Peter gets what he deserves. Lydia, of course, will reign over all. </p><p>A Canon-Divergence AU with many direct references and quotations from S1+2.  Mixture of dark stuff and humor.</p><p> </p><p>Complete, standalone one-shot. Tangential relationship to Lydia's Little Earthquakes, as this alternate reality appeared to her during a spell. This was mostly written months ago so no S3 spoilers/compliance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There's potentially disturbing sex stuff that I don't know if I tagged right. None of it is non-con though. Please make suggestions for tags/warnings.

[Smells Like Teen Spirit Cover -Tori Amos](http://youtu.be/cvQI5-rkV_A)

 

Two sixteen year old boys wander through the Beacon Hills preserve on a January night, searching for half of a dead woman’s body.

 “Scott, wait that’s my dad. Fuck, he’s gonna kill me if he sees me out here.”

“It’s fine, bro.  I’ll tell him I got lost. You go, you know he likes me best anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks dude. I’ll pick you up in the morning.” The one with the buzz cut starts to leave.

“Wait, Stiles, give me your jacket.”

“What? No, it’s cold.”

“Think about it. You were in front, so he might have seen it. I’ll tell him I borrowed it.”

“OK fine. You’re right, smart thinking,” he admits, handing it over. “But it really is cold,” he whines, “Give me your hoodie.”

***

Scott is waiting by his locker, scowling, when he gets to school.

“What the hell Stiles? I thought you were picking me up today. Where were you?

What can he say? _Sorry, I thought I was bitten by a mountain lion but the bite magically healed overnight and now I think I’ve turned into a werewolf._

“Sorry, I overslept.” 

“It’s cool, I rode my bike. I just wished you’d told me you weren’t gonna make it. You know how winded I get if I have to rush.”

“Dude, I really am sorry. But here, I finally remembered to bring back the Chem notes I borrowed from you and even made some annotations.”

Scott’s broad smile tells him that he’s totally forgiven.

***

Stiles discovers that not all of these new developments are bad. He totally crushes at lacrosse practice. Afterwards Lydia Martin actually bats her eyes and smiles at him. He doesn’t feel the need to take his Adderall anymore and his athlete’s foot has cleared up as well.

**

When he hears the call at night, he’s still awake, finding all the information he can about lycanthropes and other supernatural creatures. He’s disappointed that if he was going to become some sort of mythical creature that kills people he couldn’t have been turned into an incubus. At least then he’d finally get laid. Instead, he’s gets claws and nasty sideburns every time he even thinks about jacking off.

He follows the voice as it beckons him into the preserve. He’s fully himself, aware of everything; he probably could fight the pull if he really wanted to. He doesn’t.

Stiles expects to encounter the wild beast from the night before. Instead he’s greeted by a well dressed man, a little older, but quite handsome.

“So, you bit me.” Stiles says accusingly, arms flinging out.

“The bite is a gift."

“One I didn’t ask for. And you didn’t include a receipt. Doesn’t seem like lycanthropy has the same generous return policy as Macy’s.”

“Oh, Stiles. You are a delight. We are going to have so much fun together.” The man smiles.

“So you’re not gonna kill me?”

“God. Don’t you understand yet? I’m not the bad guy here.”

“You turn into a giant monster with red eyes and fangs and you’re not the bad guy here?”

“Stiles, I really am not.” Peter goes on to explain about the generations of Hales who lived in peace, hunters, the fire that killed his family and left him crippled and powerless until his nieces unfortunate passing gave him the Alpha powers. He urges Stiles to understand that he must commit vengeance in the name of his slain loved ones. Confesses that he needs a new pack to give him the power he needs and the Stiles is the key to balancing the scales.

 “OK, I understand your big wolfy vendetta, but you have got to be more discreet about things. I don’t want the authorities brought into this. My father’s the Sheriff and his heart can’t take it. You want my help, you take my advice.”

“You realize I’m your Alpha and can just force you into doing what I want.”

“Dude, you just told me that you need me in your pack. I’ll kill myself before I let you hurt him and then where will you be. Besides, my ideas are awesome anyway. It’s like having Batman in your pack.”

“Stiles, you are not Batman. If anyone is going to Batman it’s going to be me. Look at those colors you wear.

“Can’t I be Batman some of the time?” he grumbles.

“No.” Peter rolls his eyes. _Teenagers_. “But, I think we can make this work. I can agree to listen to what you have to say as long as it’s not too ridiculous. I can see where your perspective on things might be helpful.”

Stiles smiles triumphantly. “And also, don’t just bite the next person you find wandering around. It could have been someone less adaptable and you’d have a shit storm on your hands.”

“Alright then. You help me find the right person and we’ll talk it all out first.”

Peter steps in closer, places a hand on the boy’s waist.

“I like you Stiles. Since you’ve helped me I’m going to give you something in return. ” He leans in a licks up his neck, digs his thumb into his hip. “Do you want it?”

Stiles can smell Peter’s scent change, feel the heat from his hardening cock. He just stands there, mouth hanging open.

“Wha? What?”

“I need an answer Stiles. I won’t continue without it.” As he steps back Stiles snaps out of his hormonal haze.

 “So, suddenly you care about consent? Didn’t hear you asking before you bit me and turned me into a freaking werewolf?”

“That was different. That first night in the woods I took you because I needed you in my pack. This, whatever _this_ turns out to be, is meant as a gift to you. If you want to say no, I’ll understand.” He pushes his lip out, pouting just a little. “It might hurt my feelings a little, but I’ll get over it.”

“So what’s your answer Stiles? Would you like me to draw you a picture?”

“Do you, think maybe you could repeat the question?” Stiles gulps. “I’m not sure I quite understand.”

“Do you want me to suck your cock?” Peter asks carefully, enunciating every word, hot breathe against the side of his throat.

Stiles swallows hard. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “Do it.”

***

Stiles wakes up covered in leaves and cum, his boxers miraculously back in place but his other clothing missing. He runs for home, plunging into the Braverman’s pool on the way. It was an accident, but a pretty convenient one since it washed away most of the evidence of what happened the night before.

 

When he gets home, the hottest guy he’s ever seen in his life is standing in his bedroom.

“Derek, right? Derek Hale? I know who you are.”

Derek just stands there, legs apart, hands in the pocket of his leather jacket.

“I know what you are too, buddy. So cut the man of mystery posturing and tell me why you’re here.”

“You smell like my uncle,” he says, finally.

“Um, yeah. Duh. He’s my Alpha. Wait, does that mean he’s yours too? Are we brothers now or something?” Stiles wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. Then he realizes he’s making insinuations about some pseudo-incestuous scenario and stops.

“My uncle is the Alpha?” Derek asks.

“Wait, you don’t know this? Haven’t you talked to him?”

“When I last went to visit my uncle he was practically comatose, in a wheelchair, unable to speak. Not exactly making me think he was the Alpha.”

“Well, he’s all healed up; Ready and raring to go.”

Derek frowns, “Yeah,” he says nose crinkling, “I can smell that.”

“Oh, that.” He blushes and looks down, suddenly conscious that he’s still wearing only his damp boxers. “Peter said it was a good way to welcome me into the pack. Better than catching rabbits or something.”

Derek doesn’t comment on that. “He’s been killing people.”

“Yeah, bad people. People who helped murder your entire family.”

“My, my sister.” He whispers. “The girl in the woods. She was my sister, and she was the Alpha before.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Stiles says, rubbing one foot on top of the other. “That doesn’t mean that he did it though, right? I mean the power must get passed down to someone either way, doesn’t it?”

“But if he didn’t kill her, then who?”

“Whoever it was that planned the fire. He or she is obviously intent on wiping out all of you.”

Derek turns away, “I know who it is.”

“You, what? You know who it is and never did anything about it?”

“I couldn’t  tell anyone, because then they’d all know.”

“Know what, Derek?”

“Know that it was my fault.” And he jumps out the window.

Stiles would follow him, he’s fast enough now. But he really wants a shower and it’s almost time for school.

***

That night Peter texts him with an address. Stiles doesn’t even bother asking where he got his cell number. He showers, tells his dad he’s spending the night at Scott’s, and heads out. He pulls up to one of the nicest apartment complexes in Beacon Hills.

 

When Stiles gets there, Peter’s handcuffed himself to the headboard and lying naked, except for a pair of red panties. Lube and honey and a whip and feathers sit on the nightstand. Stiles can see a collection of plugs and dildos and anal beads in a bag on the floor.

“Yeah, it was cool and everything last night, when you sucked me off, but this may be a little more than I’m ready for,” he manages to stammer, blush rising furiously.

“I’m sorry Stiles. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. You can release me and leave, if you want. But we both know that I’m stronger, more powerful than you are. I thought you might like the opportunity to feel in control. This sort of role-play can enhance pack dynamics.”

“And the panties?” Stiles asks.

“Oh, those are just for me. I wear them all of the time anyway; feel so nice against my skin.”

“Well, what did you want me to do with you?” he asks, beginning to feel more comfortable, liking the idea of being in charge.

“That’s the point Stiles. You can do anything you want.”

Stiles quickly shucks off his pants and climbs onto the bed, suddenly very eager to start.

 

He pushes his boxers lower down his thighs, pulls out his cock, and climbs onto Peter, pushing into his mouth, figuring he should begin with something familiar. He can decide what to do next after he has his first orgasm.

He ignores most of the paraphernalia Peter’s laid out and goes for the lube. He reaches behind himself and slides in a slicked-up finger.

“Please, Stiles,” he begs, “turn around for me. I want to see you.”

“Yeah, ok.” He breathes out heavily, sighing at the loss of warm wetness around his shaft but deciding it’ll be worth it. “Tell me what you see.”

Peter is equal parts amusement and arousal at Stiles request, but is careful not to smile. He doesn’t want to make the boy self-conscious about wanting a running commentary.

“Stiles you look so beautiful. So pink and pretty. And so ready, you’re opening up so good. I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me. That’s it, another finger, you can take it.”  

After he’s managed to fill himself with three fingers he slicks up Peter. Then finally, _finally,_ Stiles starts to slowly sink down onto Peter’s cock, and then immediately jumps off.

“Holy crap. That fucking hurts. Why would anybody want to do that?” Stiles looks terribly offended, like the porn industry has been lying to him for years.

Peter breaks the cuffs and wraps his arms around him. “Hey, shhh, it’s okay. This was my mistake. Look, let’s try it again a different way ok. We can do this again some other time. For now, let me take care of you, ok? Can we do that?”

Stiles eyes him suspiciously, but nods.

“OK, just give me a minute. Lay back now, bend your knees, and remember to breathe.” Peter goes to the bathroom and comes back with a warm washcloth, to wipe the lube away. After he reaches for the honey, Stiles sits up and blocks him arm.

“I really don’t think adding something sticky down there is going to help.”

“Stiles, please,” he says while gently pushing him back down into the bed. “You can stop me if you don’t like it, but at least let me try this.” He drizzles it all along his crack and leans in between his legs.

“Oh!” Stiles is startled by the press of hot tongue against his hole but quickly sinks into the sensation. “Yeah, ok. Do that. Keep doing that.”

Peter can’t help but chuckle a little at the reaction to his initial licks and nips. Stiles’ muscle is already loose from his fingers and Peter is able to easily push in his tongue. He can feel him start to relax more though and slips in a finger of his own, finding the prostate and rubbing it gently. 

“Oh my God. Yes. Umph.”  Peter keeps on playing with him until he’s got four fingers inside and Stiles is blissed out enough to become completely malleable.

Peter rolls him onto his side, pushes his top leg over, spoons him from behind. Then slowly he starts to work just the very tip of his penis in, adding more lube as he goes. Whenever Stiles starts to tense up, he draws away the pain. He puts his arm around Stiles chests and reminds him to breathe with him, slow and steady, in and out. He gets halfway in and stops, lets Stiles adjust before he starts moving, just slowly rocking.

“More.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, more.” He moves Stiles over and onto his stomach and positions a pillow under his hips, then he slides into him the rest of the way.

“OK?”

“Yeah,ok,” he answers and starts pushing himself back, grinding onto Peter. “I guess I see why people do this.”

Peter lets himself laugh then, Stiles grabs one of the plugs and throws it at his head.

***

After they’ve washed up, Peter fixes him dinner. He says he’ll permit one glass of wine, two if he’s staying the night.

Stiles is very disappointed to find that alcohol has no effect on him now. “You asshole. You’ve robbed me of so many formative experiences. Drunken bar crawls, drunken hook ups at frat parties, getting drunk behind the bleachers after the big game.”

“I could argue that I’ve offered you quite a few more novel experiences in return. But if intoxication is that important to you, there are ways. I’ll show you sometime when things are more settled and it’s not a school night.”

“Yeah?” he says, brightening.

“Yeah.” Peter smiles fondly at his Beta

“So,” Stiles says, gesturing around the apartment. “This is not what I’m expecting. I thought you were living out at the old house.”

“Really? What would lead you to believe that I’m going to stay in some rodent infested death trap in the woods.”

“Good point. Actually, though that reminds me. Derek stopped by this morning. Did he come talk to you yet?”

“Ah, my dear nephew. He didn’t threaten you did he? He can be a bit cantankerous at times.”

“No, nothing like that.” Stiles fights back a blush, tries not to remember the way his henley molded to his chest, the dark scruff on his cheeks, the brown streaks at the center of his brilliant green eyes.

“Oh. You _like_ him,” Peter says thoughtfully. “I can see how he might appeal to you.

“If you like,” he offers, eyes twinkling, “I can give him to you.”

“Um, no that’s alright dude, no need to pimp out your nephew to me.” Peter laughs at Stiles discomfort. “But you really do need to talk to him. He seems to be a few pages behind in the script.”

“We’ll do it together. Soon. Finish your piccata, so we can go to bed.”

***

This time it’s Jackson waiting by his lockers after first bell. He’s ranting about juice and being best and all sorts of hyper masculine bullshit.

“Hey, buddy. No need to go all Alpha male on me (internal hi-five on the secret pun) meet me after school and I’ll give you what you’re asking for.”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he adds, trying to keep his tone casual, “bring a friend if you want, maybe Danny.”

Instead he brings Lydia.

Peter’s eyes flash red the instant the door opens and her scent reaches him. He leaps across the coffee table, and Stiles just barely stops him from grabbing her. He shoots the older man a glare as he welcomes in their guests.

“Lydia, Jackson, this is my cousin, uh, Pedro.”

Peter can’t stop staring at her. And occasionally sniffing. Stiles tries to elbow him out of the way, but the damage has been done.

“Alright, Jackson, I came with you but this is creepy and I’m leaving. Now.” She steps back from the threshold and glares pointedly at her boyfriend.

Peter finally looks at Jackson, appraises him carefully, and then smiles approvingly. “Jackson, give her your keys.”

“But, my Porsche…” he starts to protest.

“I’m sure Lydia can manage not to destroy your precious Porsche. And even if she does, I’m sure Daddy will buy you a new one. Give her your keys.”

After she leaves Peter grabs Jackson and throws him against the door, “Never bring her here again. When we’re ready for her I’ll ask her myself.”

“What the hell, man? Stiles said I could bring a friend.”

“Lydia is not your friend though, is she?” They stand like that for a moment, breathing heavily, Peter’s gaze flicking to Jackson’s full mouth. And then he lets him go.

“So. Jackson, is it? Stiles tells me that you’re interested in acquiring some of his special skills. Is that what you’re really after?”

“I just want to go back to being better than Stilinski at lacrosse. There’s just something not right with the way things are now.”

“But is that really what’s wrong? Tell me, Jackson, when’s the last time you told your parents that you love them? When’s the last time they told you and you believed them?”

Jackson’s eyes widen in alarm. “Who the hell are you? Who told you? What do you know about my life?”

“Oh Jackson, nobody told me anything. I’m a psychologist. Well, I was, before. Your neuroses are very poorly veiled.  Your narcissism is a ridiculously blatant attempt to compensate for your insecurities and abandonment issues. Your attachment to your car represents your desire for the sexual connection you don’t have with that goalie friend of yours. Shall I go on?” Peter’s smile is devastating.

“Screw this. I’m leaving. Good luck with this freak show Stilinski.”

“Sit down.” Peter commands, the Alpha growl thickening his voice. Jackson settles onto the ottoman obediently.

“You’re not going to leave,” he says, trailing a claw delicately along Jackson’s perfect jawline. “I want you in my pack.”

“I don’t care. I’m not interested in whatever this is anymore.  I don’t want to be in your pack.”

“Do you know what I heard just now? Your heart beating slightly faster over the words “I don’t want.’ You may believe that you’re telling me the truth but you’re lying to yourself.

“But that’s not the important thing. What is critical is that you believe what I’m telling you.”

Peter speaks slowly and carefully, blues eyes locked on blue. “I want you in my pack.”

“Fine, you want me in your pack.” Jackson rolls his eyes.

“No, you don’t believe me yet,” the Alpha says with a shake of his head. “But you will.

“You’re going to take your clothes off and lie on the bed. I wasn’t planning on this so I don’t have much to tie you down with. But I’m sure Stiles will be happy to help hold you down, won’t you Stiles?” Stiles gives him a thumbs up and a wry smile. “As you know,” Peter reminds Jackson, “he’s quite strong now.”

***

Stiles thinks Jackson’s insecurities are much more deeply rooted than they have any right to be; especially for a rich white male who’s never experiences any true trauma. “So you were adopted, boo-fucking-hoo.”

 Peter’s the one who urges patience, gentleness, understanding. “The heart wants what the heart wants,” he says. And apparently what Jackson wants is to spend hours on his knees. Still, he doesn’t manage to break.

Finally, Stiles suggests that they go ahead and bring Lydia in. She’s getting suspicious anyway. Peter visibly shudders and explains that she will never be able to take the bite. Admits that he’s been afraid of the power the two of them might have, if they started working together.

“You mean, my spark thing. Like that.”

“Not quite. Almost the opposite of it in a way. But yes, Lydia would have extremely strong forces at her disposal, should she choose to use them. I needed to see if I could trust you.”

“And now?”

“Now I trust you.”

***

At first Lydia’s rightfully disturbed to find out that her boyfriend has been involved in a werewolf bondage threesome. But her intrigue at Stiles’ mention of magic proves a strong enough pull to overcome her ire.

She and Jackson talk quietly together. When he stops being embarrassed and admits that he needs this, she agrees to stay and help. She doesn’t exactly join them. Instead, she spends time in the apartment learning from Peter, reading his books, practicing with Stiles.

By the time Jackson’s come to terms with his place in the pack and taken the bite, Lydia’s become quite powerful in her own right.

***

There’s a new girl at school. She’s pretty and has on a great jacket and normally Lydia might try to befriend her, but she’s got other things on her mind now.

Stiles heard her talking to her mom, complaining that she forgot her pencil, whatever.

When she comes in she asks Greenberg to borrow one, he practically punches himself in the face trying to dig one out of his bag for her.

Later he sees them sitting together in the cafeteria, heads together, laughing softly. She seems a little out of his league, but then he should know better than anyone not to presume about these things. After all, last night he tied up the captain of the lacrosse team and licked and fingered his asshole till came so many times he was pale and shaky and crying.  His girlfriend sat on the couch and waited, had enough time to finish all of her homework and write code for a specialized search engine for the Hale family’s bestiary. Then they both curled around Jackson’s wearied form, petting him, while Peter hand fed him soft bits of stewed lamb and bread dredged through the gravy.

***

Derek refuses to leave the house and move into his Uncle’s apartment. He insists that he is “where he deserves to be.” He does at least agree to sleep in Stiles’ bed when it rains – the teen is almost never there anyway.

Despite rarely seeing him, Derek begins to develop a certain fondness for Stiles. It’s based partially on his lingering scent but also the picture he’s built in his head based on knickknacks around his room, his browser history, glimpses he catches while lurking around the high school. Sure it’s a little creepy, but Derek stops feeling guilty about it after he sees Stiles slip into bed each morning after, press his face into the pillows and jerk himself off moaning Derek’s name despite reeking of that blond kid’s cum. They are each careful to give the other enough time to escape before taking entering what has become their time-shared bedroom. But Stiles is less and less careful about cleaning up after himself, and soon Derek can’t help but start masturbating in the bed as well.

It’s not exactly chocolates and heart balloons but when Derek leaves bottle lube in the nightstand on Valentine’s day, Stiles isn’t wrong to interpret it as a romantic overture.

**

When Stiles finally corners him, insists he explain about the fire, Derek is ready to comply.

When he gets to the end Stiles doesn’t spend time reassuring Derek that it wasn’t his fault, or show any sympathy for the violation and loss he had experienced. Instead he focuses on the present and makes Derek a promise- “We will find that bitch. And we will kill her.”

***

Kate makes it easy when she rolls back into town. She fires off a few shots, figures that will be enough to deal with the one, maybe two of them out there. Derek gets hit and hides behind the warehouse.

She raises her gun, She’s not prepared for four more pack members to descend. Stiles walks ahead, all casual smiles, flame joyfully bouncing from one hand to another likes he’s juggling oranges or something.

“I heard you like fire. So I got you some fire,” he says as he hurls it at her chest.

They let her burn until she passes out and then Peter comes and rips out her throat. He would have saved her for Derek, but if they’re being honest, he doesn’t trust that his nephew could have gone through with it.

They search the SUV, taking any supplies that might later be useful. Peter sends Jackson off with Derek and a box of bullets, to find Alan Deaton, the veterinarian. Says he’ll know how to help with the festering wound in his arm.

They gather most of her ashes into an urn, but leave her teeth along with a bundle of clothing on the seat of her SUV and set it on fire. Stiles calls his dad to report that there’s been an accident.

***

The Sheriff notices that even though Stiles’ heads up to his room every night his bed isn’t being slept in. At first he just worries that it’s insomnia, too much Adderall, video game addiction. Then he starts hearing reports of his son driving around with medical miracle Peter Hale and his taciturn nephew Derek. Of course he can’t get a straight answer out of him, something about interviewing them for a school project, a possible internship, a flat tire.

Stiles gets hauled out of sixth period to see the new guidance counselor.

“You’re father asked me to speak with you. He said he was worried you may be in over your head with something that could be dangerous.”

“My dad? Shit. I mean, oh darn.”

“It’s alright Stiles, you can speak freely with me.” she says with a carefully even tone. _Too careful and too even not to be hiding something_ , Stiles thinks.

“I’m fine. Great even. Looks like the Cyclones are gonna make it to State this year!”

“Hmmm. I’ve noticed you’re not spending much time with Scott McCall these days.” _I have to keep him safe,_ echoes through his head. Instead he says, almost by rote, “Sometimes the people closest to you are the ones holding you back the most.”

***

It seems to work out for Scott though. Without Stiles there to talk to him on the bench he strikes up a friendship with one of the other players, tall and gorgeous with curly hair, who would be pretty good if he didn’t get all twitchy anytime another player rams into him. When Isaac shows up with a cut under his eye, and can’t come up with a convincing cover-up for the fact that a glass was thrown at his face, Scott convinces him to report his father

When Stiles starts sitting at the popular table at lunch Scott refuses to join him, doesn’t want to be anywhere near Jackson. So he sits with Isaac at that table where the heavy guy who drives the Zamboni at the ice rink has always sat alone. And soon that blonde girl with the seizures joins them and they all seem happy enough together. He can’t tell if Scott and Isaac are actually having sex or not, but it’s really not high on his list of priorities to find out. Erica starts showing towards the end of the year,  and it seems to be causing some issues with how her medication is working, but she and Boyd are determined to keep it and are making plans to get their GEDs so they can switch off taking care of the baby and working next year. Whenver Stiles spots them altogether he sorely misses his best friend but still manages to smile and think, _Leave it to Scott, not even a werewolf and he’s still the Alpha of his own pack._

***

Deaton shows Derek the picture of the deer with the red spiral on its flank, the one that was sent to Laura to draw her back to Beacon Hills.  “You have to kill him. My loyalty to your family is through your mother’s line. By murdering your sister he broke any affiliation I have with him. But I can not carry out the deed myself. I’m counting on you, Derek.”

“None of the other Betas will help me.” Derek laments.

“Show this to Stiles and you might be surprised. His loyalty is more to the idea of pack than to Peter himself.”

 

But before Derek has the chance to make his case to Stiles, he’s captured. They find the Camaro at the gas station, windshield half washed. Fortunately, Derek actually had his cell phone on him for once and they are able to track the GPS right back to his house. [His user name is disgrace88 his password is 123456789, both were written on a post-it note stuck to his visor.] The pack agrees that a full assault is not the best strategy and send Stiles alone. The others wait, prepared but out of scent and hearing range should the abductors be a roaming pack.

Stiles walks into what’s left of the foyer, to find Derek bound to a chair and gagged. Stiles can smell the mountain ash that’s been infused into the ropes and cloth, keeping him from breaking free. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Derek tenses and snarls at the approaching footsteps, unable to exercise his sense of smell. When he sees Stiles he relaxes, lets his head drop forward, dark eyelashes fluttering closed.

Stiles is sorely tempted to leave Derek tied up like this, just carry him back chair and all, but he knows that whoever did this will be returning soon and he might need Derek to help him fight.

Once the ropes are cut, Derek stretches, his strength returning as his blood recirculates. He doesn’t speak, but signals that he’s unsure of who may be on the premises.

When they step outside they’re faced with a bunch of men with guns and bows and knives. Hunters. Like Kate.

“Chris.” Derek growls.

“I’m sorry about kidnapping you Derek, but we needed to bring you here to carry out justice for the recent string of murders.”

“I have nothing to do with that.”

“We follow The Code, if you haven’t harmed anyone we won’t kill you. Trust us.”

“Trust you?  The way I trusted your sister before she locked my entire family in the basement and set them on fire?” Blood drips from Derek’s hands as his claws pierce his palm, the only outward sign of his struggle for control.   

“She was wrong, and your pack has had your retribution. This isn’t about that. We’re here for Peter.”

 

That’s when Deaton steps out of the shadows. “You can have him.”

“What?”

“They’re right.”

Derek nods and grips Stiles by the shoulder. “He killed Laura, he needs to be put down.”

“No, Kate killed Laura.” Stiles protests, yanking himself away.

“Think about it Stiles, we caught her on her way into town. When would she have done it?” Derek argues.

“Fine, then some other hunter.” Stiles suggests desperately, scrambling for some explanation that doesn’t involve Peter murdering his own niece.  

“Stiles. Look at me. Listen to my heartbeat. Peter killed Laura.”

“Just because you’re not lying, doesn’t mean you’re not wrong.”

“That’s true Mr.Stilinski.” Deaton interjects. “But you don’t have to take Derek’s word for it. The evidence of Peter’s plan should be enough to convince you.” He hands Stiles the image of the deer and explains how it came to be sent to Laura.

Stiles studies the photograph, lets dates and statements and memories slot together in his mind. Resolved, he turns to the hunters. “You can take him if you want. But instead I’d like to offer you a deal. Let the pack put down Peter, properly, and I’ll bring you Kate’s remains. And I’ll make sure that your family’s name stays out of the papers. I think that’s more than fair.”

“I’ll take your word for now,” Chris agrees, “but I expect physical evidence within the next 48 hours, otherwise we will come to finish the job.”

***

Stiles is fortunate that Harris is out with amoebic dysentery the next day and Chemistry becomes a study period. He’s able to bring Lydia up to speed and together they arrive at a course of action which Jackson grudgingly agrees. It primarily involves luring Peter into the woods with the promise of an outdoor orgy, and hanging Jackson naked from a tree so that their story passes for truth. Once Stiles is able to pin Peter’s body to the ground with the strength of his belief, Derek moves in to rip his throat out.

 “Derek, stop!” Stiles cries out, stilling his arm. “You don’t want to kill him, you’ll be the Alpha. You think you want that but you don’t.”

“What, you want it? Look at the power trip you’ve been on since getting the bite. You really think you can handle that when it’s been magnified.”

“Yeah, yeah I do! A whole lot better than you can,” he spits out.

“Honestly, like we want either of you idiots in charge.” Lydia strides forward, calling thick vines and delicate monkshood blossoms out of the earth. She wills them to wrap him up like a spider does her prey.

“We’ll take his body and drain it. His blood may come in handy someday. Then you can do whatever wolfy rituals you need to with what’s left.”

 “If one of you becomes the Alpha when he dies then I guess that can’t be helped. But I’m not going to let you boys bicker over this. I’m going to be in charge no matter what happens.”

They don’t argue with that.

***

With all the crazy shit Stiles has done the past few months, this is the first time he actually feels like he’s making love or whatever cheesy terms you want to use for having sex with someone because you like them and not because of some twisted power dynamic.

So, he and Derek are face to face when it happens, Stiles sinking deep inside when the last traces of life leave Peter/s body. “Well that’s a surprise,” he says as Derek’s eyes flash red. “I thought it would be me. I mean not trying to stereotype or anything, but we both know who’s really the Big Bad Wolf between the two of us,” he teases as he grinds into Derek’s ass.

“Stiles,” he breathes out, barely able to speak, since the base of Stiles’ cock has started swelling, putting relentless pressure on his prostate, but he knows that he needs to make his point. “Focus on what you’re feeling. What are your senses telling you?”

“Sorry babe, yeah, I feel good, really good, you are so tight.”

Derek manages to roll his eyes and sigh despite his physical urge to just give in and cum all over both their stomachs. “No. Not _that_ feeling. Look in the mirror, dumbass.” Stiles glances over his shoulder to see matching Alpha eyes in his own face.

“Holy shit. We both got it. This is awesome.” He goes to thrust into Derek again and finds that he’s stuck. “Derek?”  he asks in alarm, “What the fuck is going on with my penis?”

***

“Alright boys, so go ahead and tell me. I already know that it’s not Jackson.”

Stiles yelps. “Jackson, oh my god. I forgot about Jackson. Jackson could have become the Alpha.”

“Well, we all know he’s not, so get on with it. Hmmm?”

Their eyes flare red simultaneously as each growls out, “I’m the Alpha now.”

“You two are such dorks. You planned that, didn’t you?”

“Maybe?” Stiles says.

 “A little,” he  hedges.

“Yeah, fine we totally practiced for an hour until we could do it in sync.”

Lydia raises one very judgmental eyebrow at Derek. “Well, he needed to work on controlling the shift anyway, and that kept him motivated.”

“From the look of you two, that’s not the only thing that kept him motivated.” Derek blushes and Stiles just looks smug.

“And once again I’m glad I don’t have to deal with your heightened sense of smell. Do what you want, but I don’t want to see it, or hear it. Keep your hands to yourselves when you’re over here. I know that Peter was all, ‘the pack that plays together, stays together,’ but that’s over now.”

“Sure thing Lydia.” Stiles answers, not able to totally hide his smirk,

“Stiles, if I find out you snuck in here to have sex I’ll cast a spell to make your dick fall off.”

“Come on that would never work. The first amulet I ever made for myself was to protect Captain Climax.” Derek and Jackson would be incredulous that Stiles named his cock and then casted a spell to guard it, but it is Stiles, so par for the course. Derek does look a bit embarrassed though, once he realizes that it means the guy he’s in love with is the guy who named his cock and then casted a spell to guard it.

Lydia just smiles wickedly. “Fine then, I’ll make Derek’s dick fall off.”

At that Stiles squawks indignantly. “You wouldn’t dare! That’s like threatening to cut the smile off the Mona Lisa.” Derek’s practically folded himself into the floor.

“Stiles! Just, no shenanigans in my house.”

“Maybe just a little bit of shenanigans? C’mon look how hot he is. You can’t expect me to control myself all of the time.”

“Yes I can. This conversation is over. And stop trying to signal at him behind my back- the pool house totally counts as my property.”

**

Once they’re out of range Jackson speaks up, “What you just said is for them, right?  Not a new blanket policy?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you give it a try and see what the consequences are,” she teases.

He grabs her and lifts until she wraps her legs around his waist.

He hopes Lydia sets some strict rules and then makes it possible for him to cross over them.

He hopes the consequences are severe.

***

 


	2. Notes andstuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some thoughts. Some details about background characters.

I don’t really have the patience for detailing fight scenes. When I tried, the showdown from BTVS 3x9 “The Wish,” kept coming into my head. Then I realized that this piece has a lot of parallels to that entire episode, but I wasn’t thinking about that when I started. And I couldn’t kill off Lydia or my boys.

So, this was hopefully the main stuff that changed was clear, some of this is stuff I thought about but didn’t want to detail-

Since Scott isn’t bitten he is completely excluded from the supernatural happenings, but he kind-of becomes the human alpha to the humans that would have been Derek’s pack. In gym class, Erica and Scott are partners for the climbing wall. He has to stop b/c his asthma kicks in and she gets off to help him. They practice together after school with proper safety equipment until they can do it.

Because Peter is revealed as Alpha from the beginning he doesn’t kill his nurse or anyone else not implicated in the fire. Since Stiles cooperates and Derek joins in a lot of crap is avoided. There’s no beating up Deaton, running around the school at night, or trying to date Stiles’ dad. Stiles convinces Peter to cover up things instead of leaving bloody murder scenes all over, and nobody really notices the killing spree.

Harris does die, but instead of actually killing him Stiles finds his stash of kiddie porn (the 2nd drawer in his desk smells strongly of cum and lube) and has him arrested. He doesn’t survive long in prison.

Stiles tells his dad that he was acting so weird b.c the Hales were helping him set up the sting. He gets pissed off at all of them for putting him in danger, but their relationship gets on better footing.

Peter is much more forthcoming than Derek so Stiles learns everything a lot quicker than Scott did. Honestly, Peter’s not a good person, but I feel like he’d have been a better Alpha than Der-Bear were it not for the murdering. Stiles takes Jackson to Peter right away, before the video store encounter, Derek clawing his neck, or breaking up with Lydia.

Since Peter makes Jackson feel wanted and cared for and safe (even though his methodology is fucked up), he doesn’t turn into the Kanima when he bites him. So he doesn’t kill anyone. So Mr. Lahey lives, but goes to jail. All of Matt’s other targets go about their lives. Honestly, they were just self-centered teenagers, not evil. They become better people after high school. And the deputies are all fine. Sheriff doesn’t need them to die to get his job back since he never lost it in the first place.

Because Kate is killed as soon as she rolls into town she doesn’t get the chance to tell Derek that they didn’t kill Laura. Also, Allison does not get pulled into hunting. She’s just writing folk songs and going to school dances and beating Greenberg at arm wrestling while her parents are handling things. They like Greenberg. When a creepy boy at school starts photographing her all the time Greenberg’s the one who convinces her to tell her parents and they get a restraining order filed against his stalker ass. He’s forced into counseling and grows up to still come off a little creepy but never actually harms or even threatens anyone.

Even though he understands that Peter needs to die, Stiles can’t bring himself to use fire against him, knowing the history there. So he doesn’t get the self-igniting Molotov Cocktail treatment.

Deaton is a BAMF, with powerful connections in the supernatural world, but also his husband runs the town paper and has sway at each of the local TV affiliates. On the weekends they rescue feral cats with their new foster son, who just happens to be Deaton's assistant’s boyfriend.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't have anyone to beta this so please offer constructive criticism, point out errors, etc.  
> Thanks.
> 
> The next chapter is just lots of rambling author's notes, not more story.


End file.
